


D'ya Fancy A Shag?

by A Preacher And A Vampire Walk Into A Bar (PosseMagnet)



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Dirty Talk, Episode: s01e09 Finish the Song, Frottage, Hand Job, Hurt Cassidy, M/M, Prompt Fic, Restraint, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7640386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PosseMagnet/pseuds/A%20Preacher%20And%20A%20Vampire%20Walk%20Into%20A%20Bar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cassidy, can you eat me?" Jesse asks, awkwardly. </p><p>"What? Now? D'ya fancy a shag?" he chuckles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D'ya Fancy A Shag?

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by [spectaculacularsammy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy): Cassidy was still pretty mangled when Jesse went in the room. One could write a fic where Cassidy feeds on Jesse so that he has the strength to bury Miles. And maybe some smut goes on while the blood is drunk? 
> 
> The first part of this fic is a retelling of relevant parts of s01e09 "Finish the Song" as is needed to lead into the fic. So clearly: SPOILERS. 
> 
> There is potentially a second part to this. It all depends on how much people like this part. So if you enjoyed this, drop a comment.

Jesse's been running like a rabbit ever since he bailed out of Sheriff Root's cruiser. He'd had to hoof it all the way across town because he needed the...angel telephone? heaven radio? Whatever the thing was called, that DeBlanc and Fiore had shown him at the hotel. It wasn't difficult to hide while it was dark, but the Sheriff was out looking for him, so once the sun came up it got much harder to stash himself among the accumulated rubble of Annville's citizens. Besides, it wouldn't be long before word got out that Root was looking for him.

He needed a place to hole up and there was only one person he could think of that wouldn't care what he'd done, who would help him lay low without questioning the circumstances.

Well, there were actually two people he could think of, but he'd ruined things with Cassidy.

He rounds the corner into the scratched, dry dirt in the backyard of Walter's squat little house, and skids to a stop when he sees Emily on her knees, cooing platitudes to a couple of hair balls in a cage.

"What are you doing here?" It's not what he really wants to know, but the question is out of his mouth now. She's stammering an answer he doesn't care about so he blurts, "Emily, where's Tulip?"

Jesse deflates when he finds out she's gone. Albuquerque. Carlos. It figures. Then Emily says, "Your mate's in the house."

The smell inside is awful. Rodents in cages, goats, urine and feces made the air heavy and oppressive. Underneath the sharp tang of live animals is a wetter, _meatier_ smell. It raises the hair on Jesse's neck as he makes his way toward the back room, where he can hear grating noises, bumps and thumps.

If the living room smells like a zoo the bedroom smells like a slaughterhouse. It's like a punch to the gut, but worse than that, worse than the smell, worse than the jumble of fur and viscera piled knee-high against the walls, is the pale, slim figure he sees hunched in the corner.

"Go away," comes a voice, like a whisper.

The truth plows into him in an instant and he falls into the room, toward the figure. He leans on the bed because suddenly his legs are useless. "Cassidy?" he asks in a shaky voice.

"You should go, preacher. It's not safe for you here." The voice sounds like it belongs to some grating, hellish creature fresh from purgatory.

He falls to his knees next to a human corpse. "Ah, Jesus. You killed the mayor." It isn't a question.

Cassidy is upon him in a blink, "And I'll kill you too," he growls in Jesse's face. He bares his teeth, but they're surrounded by lips that tremble until Cassidy blows out a breath and lets his head fall. "I told you what I was." The words are nearly a sob. "And now you see." He backs away from Jesse and right now, he looks like an animal. His bones protrude sharply under his thin skin as he retreats. "You can leave." He curls his body around his knees again.

But Jesse won't leave. How could he? His best friend in the entire world is crouched in front of him like some exotic, feral beast. And it's all his fault. He can still smell his friend burning. He sees the horror replay itself every time he closes his eyes. And now, watching Cassidy flinch and whimper on the floor, seeing his skeletal face, blisters pimpling his skull, his hair burned almost completely away, his skin still charred, still flaking away in huge pieces, and his eyes. His eyes are the worst. They're red with burst blood vessels, and they're sad, wounded, searching for answers. Jesse's heart breaks inside of him, shattering like glass, filling him with a gritty kind of sorrow.

He apologizes. Cassidy, who has seen the darkest part of his heart; who had watched him send a boy to hell because he was busy and frustrated; who had never once failed him, even at his most monstrous, he had completely abandoned in his selfishness. The apology is tiny. It feels insignificant in the face of all Jesse had done wrong, but he offers it up anyway, because it's all he has to give.

"Jesse Custer, with the pretty girl and the Kung-fu moves, what've you to be sorry for?" Cassidy questions, his voice is a mixture of stones and silk.

The answer is: everything. Jesse is sorry for all of it, but what he says is, "Right now I'm just so sorry I let you burn."

Cassidy's eyes flicker over Jesse, testing his sincerity. In the end he gives a small shrug and replies, "No. You put me out pretty quick."

And Jesse did. Once he'd overcome his shock he _did_ put him out. It just wasn't fast enough. And now he felt wretched to see how his friend suffered because of him, because of Jesse's mulish disbelief. Cassidy trusted him implicitly. If he'd confided in Cassidy such a huge secret, Cass wouldn't have questioned it for a moment. But Jesse hadn't believed him. And because of it, because of him, Cassidy had nearly died.

"You put me out," Cassidy drawls. "That's what matters." It may be good enough for Cass, but it would never be good enough for Jesse.

"Well, we'll have to hide the mayors body. I'll help you with that," Jesse offers.

Cassidy shakes his head. "Not strong enough yet, padre. I'm gettin' better, that mayor bloke helped, but I can't, Jesse, not yet. I need to eat more."

Jesse slides onto the bed, head hung in shame. He's talking to Cass about hiding the mayors body, but in his head he's trying to figure out a way to help fix what he did to his friend.

"Cassidy, can you eat _me_?" Jesse asks, awkwardly.

"What? Now? D'ya fancy a shag?" he chuckles.

"No, I'm serious. You ate the mayor, but you still look..."

"Devastatingly handsome, I know. I get t'at all the time."

"Damnit, Cass," Jesse scowls at him. "I'm being serious. You still look burned, is what I was tryin' to say. Do you still need to eat? I mean, could you drink my blood and not kill me?"

Cassidy's eyes skate over Jesse's face and slide down to his neck. He licks his lips and answers with a trembling voice, "I won't kill you, Jesse Custer."

"Then do it. I want you to. If drinking from me will help you then it's the least I could do."

Cassidy is out of the corner in a flash, and between Jesse's spread legs. Jesse gasps at the speed with which his friend moves.

"Are you sure, padre? It's going to hurt." He eyes Jesse hungrily, but doesn't touch him.

The preacher licks his lips and begins working the white collar out of his shirt. He nods and clears his throat nervously, "I wanna help, Cass."

He unbuttons his shirt and folds it neatly before placing it behind him on the bed with his clerical collar on top. "Where do you want me?"

"Right here is fine, padre," Cassidy growls. He scurries onto Jesse's lap, straddling him. The hunger is riding him hard, but he struggles to maintain a gentle touch. He rests his hands on Jesse's bare shoulders. A shudder runs through the preacher, and Cassidy isn't certain but it's probably revulsion. He's not blind. He knows he looks like hell. He bends to Jesse's neck. He doesn't mean to, he is trying very hard not to scare his Jesse, yet he can't help but run his tongue over Jesse's jugular. He's not going to bite him here, Jesse would most definitely not survive, but it's still a thrill to taste the coppery flavor of the preacher's blood through his thin skin. Feeling the pulse flutter under his tongue makes him moan. For a moment he has to fight the animal urge to clamp his teeth down on that vulnerable, quivering thing, and roll it around on his tongue until it stops dancing.

Jesse moves underneath of him and Cassidy snaps back to reality. Jesse's breath is coming in shallow little pants and he's visibly trembling. Cassidy starts to draw back, worried that his animal state has frightened the preacher. But Jesse puts his hands on the vampires thighs. Then he tilts his head slightly, baring a long expanse of vividly pale skin.

It's all the invitation Cassidy needs and with a hungry groan he bites the preacher's neck. His skin parts like hot butter and Cassidy is swallowing reflexively as Jesse's blood washes over his tongue.

"Ah, _fuck_ ," Jesse curses. He starts to slump backwards and Cassidy rides him down, until they're lying on the scratchy comforter.

Cassidy's head is spinning. He can taste the entity the clones (angels, apparently) called Genesis. And it's like heroin. It fills him up with heat. His cock starts to fill and before he realizes he's doing it he starts thrusting against Jesse. Once he becomes aware that he's doing it he tries to move away from Jesse, only Jesse is moaning and thrusting against him too.

He sits up, grinning down at Jesse, who looks thoroughly debauched. His eyes are hooded, his hair is mussed, and his lip trickles blood where he's been biting it. He looks up at Cassidy, whose lips and teeth are coated with the preacher's own blood. It doesn't seem to deter Jesse from pulling him down into a kiss.

Jesse pulls them apart after just a few tentative licks into each other mouths. He's stares at Cass with wonder on his face. "Christ, Cassidy, you're all healed."

And it's true. Cass turns to the side and sees his reflection in the dresser mirror. There is a bright streak of blood slashing across his face, but it's Jesse's blood. His skin is no longer blistered and flaking. He's grimy, but he's whole. His hair is even starting to grow back; tingly shockwaves zing out across the crown of his head when he runs his fingers over it.

His voice is equal parts amused and bewildered when he turns back to Jesse and says, "Shite, padre. That's some high-octane juice you've got pumpin' t'rough those veins of yours."

Jesse is laying there with his hands wound in the comforter. He's still biting his lip and a thin trail of blood disappears into his beard. His neck isn't bleeding anymore (Christ, Jesse heals fast) but there's a dramatic purple bruise on the side of his throat that stands out on his otherwise unmarked skin.

Cassidy is painfully hard now, he seizes the preacher's face between his palms and kisses him deep. A growl bubbles up his throat when Jesse starts thrusting against him.

He smirks into their kiss and whispers, "Are you hard for me right now, padre?"

"Yes, Cass," comes Jesse's breathless answer.

Jesse feels the button on his jeans pop open, and the zipper quickly rake down and Cassidy's hand snakes down the front of Jesse's boxer briefs to grip his dick.

Jesse barks a curse at the ceiling a beat before Cass is back to suck on his lip were it was bleeding before. His tongue swipes back and forth over the wound , sending little jolts through Jesse, making him jump and twitch.

Cass' grip on his cock is firm, if slightly confined by his jeans. "Fuuuck," he groans as he struggles to push his jeans down.

"Hang on there, Jess. Let me help," Cassidy offers, sliding off Jesse's lap. He works the inky black jeans down the preacher's hips, hissing in a breath when his cock springs free. Cass curses when the jeans get hung up on the preacher's God damned cowboy boots. "Bloody hell, fucking cock-blockin' shit kickers," he curses as he rips them off followed by Jesse's pants. Cassidy seizes the front of the ratty sweatpants he's wearing and rips them off with an angry yank.

He climbs back onto Jesse's legs, grinning triumphantly. Jesse drops his hands onto Cassidy's thighs and Cass plucks them up and grips them in one of his hands, raising them over Jesse's head and pinning them against the bed. As he stretches forward to do this their dicks slide against each other and Jesse gasps. Cassidy reaches between them and takes both of their cocks in his hand and starts stroking them.

Jesse lets loose a keening cry and his back arches off the bed. "God damnit, Cass," he gasps. "That feels so fucking good. Shit."

"Ya like that, do ya, padre? Can you feel how fuckin' hard I am? D'ya know why I'm so hard? Because my cock is full of that delicious, super powered blood of yours. That shite mayor's blood isn't what you feel. That's all you, boyo."

Jesse desperately wants to touch the vampire, he tries to squirm out of Cassidy's grip and Cassidy clutches his wrists even tighter. Jesse can feel that they'll be bruised later and it goes straight to his cock. A blurt of pre-come slicks the way for Cassidy's hand. "Cassidy, please. That feels so good. I wanna touch you. Ah, fuck."

"Mmm. Not now, padre. Maybe in a little while, but not now. I want t' make you feel good. I want t' make you come. Is that ok with you, Preacher?"

"Jesus Christ, Cassidy. Fuck, yes. That feels so God damned good." Cassidy's grip on their dicks is suddenly slicker and Jesse moans when he realizes it's Cass' pre-come smoothing the way this time. He lifts his head to look and is dumbstruck at how fucking hot it looks with their cocks pressing together in Cassidy's hand. The heads are flushed purple and occasionally pre-come spurts out over Cass' long fingers.

I makes Jesse groan deeply. Cassidy hums an affirmation. "D'ya like the way that looks, padre? You like seein' our cocks tucked in tight next to each other? How does that feel?" Jesse arches his back and moans. "Yeah. Fuck. I like it too, Jesse," Cass drawls.

Cassidy look at Jesse and he's biting his lip again, so he leans over and sucks the tender flesh into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth. Jesse squirms in Cassidy's hands again and Cass flexes his fingers tighter around Jesse's wrists. The bones creak and grind against each other. Jesse gasps and bucks up into the vampire. "Ya like bein' pinned down, Jess? You can't get away from me. I can bench press a station wagon, I'm not even strugglin' right now. I could do anything to you t'at I wanted to, and you couldn't do a t'ing about it."

"Fuck, Cass," Jesse chokes out.

"Aye, maybe we'll do that too, padre. Later. Right now I just want to come. How about you? Do you need to come Jesse? Do you want to?" Jesse nods and pulls his lip between his teeth again. Cassidy's hand speeds up around their cocks. He growls and catches Jesse's mouth in a teeth filled kiss. Cassidy pulls his mouth away and rasps, "I need to come right now preacher. So bad." He moans a curse, "Fuck. Right now, Jesse. Come with me."

Jesse cries out and then they're both coming in thick, hot ropes all over Jesse's chest. It splashes over the vampires elegant fingers so the last of his strokes are obscenely sloppy sounding.

Cassidy brings his come covered hand to his mouth and licks the slick, salty taste off of it before grasping Jesse's hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. Cassidy licks a stripe over the protruding Adam's apple, nips at the skin under his beard, and kisses the preacher's mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, padre. You taste so fuckin' good. I could lie here and eat you all day." Their chests slip and slide together with their panted breaths.

"Please, Cassidy," Jesse begs.

"I know padre, it does sound nice," he muses as he releases Jesse's arms. "But we've got a mayor to bury. I don't think I'm going to have a problem pitching in with that now. Though, maybe we'd better grab a shower first," he says with a wolffish grin.


End file.
